


just go now just go go go

by everyshootingstar



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alpha Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Alpha Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Discussion of Presenting, M/M, No Sex, Non-Sexual Submission, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Charcteristics, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:40:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28424880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everyshootingstar/pseuds/everyshootingstar
Summary: Nicolò goes into a rut.Nicolò sleeps fitfully when he finally returns to their little camp and by the time he wakes in the morning, clawing at the blanket of his bed roll, he can feel the steady thrum of his rut, overwhelming and too hot.Yusuf wakes with a start and looks over at Nicolò with a strange look on his face, “Its time then, huh?”
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 29
Kudos: 214





	just go now just go go go

**Author's Note:**

> title is from the song [take what you want by one ok rock featuring 5 seconds of summer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XjDj-MNHwxE)
> 
> okay so a lil bit ago I wrote a fill to the kink meme about subverting tropes in an a/b/o au. And well, this isn't quite a continuation or even a prologue, just another look at it i guess? idk. this was going to be So Much More i.e feral alpha nicky but my brain can't figure out the religious ties to that and it's. so much. 
> 
> uhhh so like don't expect 100% historical accuracy; this does take place in a time where they were still yusuf and nicolò but i was very vague on purpose bc the idea of bogging this thing down with history is...a lot for me. so they're vaguely friends, definitely not lovers. ~~of course the first time i write vague canon it'd be an a/b/o au huh~~
> 
> you'll notice the no sex tag because there is definitely no sex; i have many head canons for types of ruts alphas have and it just so happens this one is Different. 
> 
> there is a vague mention of sex between Nicolò and a past male character but it's not explicit and it's more of a memory than anything. If I need to tag Nicky/OC then lemme know. 
> 
> There's discussions of presenting as well, but again, no sex. 
> 
> hope you guys enjoy! you can find me on tumblr @ [boulangerlee](https://boulangerlee.tumblr.com)

Their friendship is tentative at most, rocky on the best of days and somewhat turbulent like waves crashing against the hull of a boat on all the others in between.

They’re somewhere far from any town, not that Nicolò had been keeping track and well, he supposes that if Yusuf wanted to be rid of him for good, now would be the perfect time, but for the most part, they just keep walking, even as the sun starts to sink into the horizon and the sky starts to darken—they walk until they find a small, abandoned village.

It’s not much, but there are several decrepit huts and at least one of them has a full roof—Yusuf doesn’t say anything as they both duck into the same one, and neither does Nicolò, busying himself with placing their supplies into the furthest back corner, digging out some rations for the two of them to share.

It’s mostly a quiet affair, if not for Yusuf’s quiet humming as he hauls twigs and branches and debris into the fire pit just outside the door; and Nicolò would almost call it relaxed—they’ve been lucky for a while now, not really running into any bandits or people who don’t take too kindly to the two of them traveling together.

Its almost _nice_ , Nicolò thinks, even as he feels the tell-tale sign his rut is going to begin soon, a barely there and second thought these days, even though he’s seen the glances Yusuf had thrown his way for the past few days now—his scent grows thicker and more overpowering, he knows this of the few times he’d experienced one as a young adult.

When you’re in a war, your body doesn’t have time to worry about biological imperatives and if war were any _good_ for anything it’d be for alphas who wanted to suppress their rut.

Nicolò rubs a tired hand across his face, smelling the strong, heady scent of himself from where his sleeve is pressed tight against his wrist. “Yusuf.” he says, throat tight with nerves.

Yusuf moves away from the fire he had built, standing, tall and looming, just inside the doorway of the hut, “What is it?”

“My…rut,” he starts, the words heavy on his tongue, “I only have another day before it really settles in. We need to find somewhere to lay low for a while.” He pauses, considering, “Unless you’d like to continue on, leave me here and I’ll catch up.”

Yusuf frowns, finally ducking inside the hit to sit against the wall nearest the door, “I know your rut is coming,” he pauses, considers his next words, “I can smell it. Smell you. It’s…” he trails off, says something in a dialect that Nicolò can’t quite pick up, “If we leave early, we may be able to make it to the next town. You can find an omega to help you through it.” He waves his hand in Nicolò’s general direction, “I’m sure there’s one somewhere that can tolerate you.”

Nicolò flushes hot, feels anger bubble up beneath his skin from the impending rut but manages to push it down, “I don’t know what you’re insinuating…” he shakes his head. “No, I don’t need an omega. I get through my ruts on my own.”

Yusuf snorts quietly, “On your own?” he asks, “Don’t tell me your people are so _prude_ about designations and needs that you’d ignore your own basic instincts for the sake of your God.”

The words hit a nerve even though they’re far from the truth, but Yusuf doesn’t deserve to know, doesn’t _need_ to know about Nicolò’s affliction, so he stands up, pressing his lips together tightly to gather himself, “I think there was a stream somewhere close,” he says tightly. “I’ll be back.”

He only realizes, halfway to the stream, that he didn’t quite know why he was going, other than to get away from Yusuf, away from the way Yusuf’s scent seemed to fill the small hut.

He thinks, somewhat distantly, that the aching _need_ he feels to bare his throat to Yusuf wouldn’t go away anytime soon.

=======

Nicolò sleeps fitfully when he finally returns to their little camp and by the time he wakes in the morning, clawing at the blanket of his bed roll, he can feel the steady thrum of his rut, overwhelming and too _hot._

Yusuf wakes with a start and looks over at Nicolò with a strange look on his face, “Its time then, huh?”

Nicolò’s mouth feels dry, tongue too big and heavy so he nods, pushing himself up until he can tear his top off, taking a deep breath as the shaded air of the hut does very little to ease the burning, “I can move to another hut,” he says. “There’s one nearby that still has most of the roof. I saw it last night.”

Yusuf sighs heavily and stands up, “Stay,” he says. “if you insist on doing this yourself, someone needs to watch over you to make sure no one…” he trails off, shaking his head. “I won’t pretend to understand why you don’t want the company of an omega but I will respect your wishes.” He wipes his hands together, “I’m going to collect some things,” he says. “We’ll need more firewood. You just. Stay here and.” He makes a somewhat crude gesture, “Take care of your needs.”

Nicolò covers his face with his arm, ignoring the sticky and over heated skin pressed against his face and listens as Yusuf heads out of the hut.

He stays that way until he’s sure Yusuf is gone before he carefully lifts his head, glancing over at Yusuf’s bed roll, the messy blankets, the makeshift pillow and there’s a _want_ that settles deep in the pit of Nicolò’s stomach that he tries to ignore, a little voice whispering at him to reach out, to get Yusuf’s scent on his skin, to bury himself beneath the blanket until Yusuf came back and saw him. _Really_ saw him for what he was.

He rolls over into his own bed roll instead, burying his face in the pillow until he could barely breathe, settling in for a long, unpleasant rut.

======

There had been someone once before, when he’d just barely presented, his alpha designation coming as a surprise to everyone, including himself—there’d been fingers in his hair, a warm voice telling him how _good_ he was, how precious he was and when he had rolled onto his stomach and shifted on his knees until he was _presenting_ , there’d been a surprised gasp behind him, the delightful scent of the man he’d caught the eye of going bolder, stronger and a warm body had folded itself over his back, gentle nuzzling against the side of his neck.

He was young and stupid and only barely stopped himself from begging for the man to bite him, to claim him.

When he’d returned home much later, his father had a look on his face, something Nicolò would never forget, rage and disappointment all in one, twisting up his features.

Nicolò barely understood why his actions had been shameful (his father’s words), why _wearing the scent of another alpha was a disgrace_ , but the look on his father’s face definitely stopped him from seeking out any company after that.

He’d tried, suppressing his desires, only paying attention to the omegas his parents tried to set him up with…none of it worked.

Soon, before he realized it, he was being sent away.

The entire time he spent studying the word of God, he couldn’t find an answer for why he felt the things he did. If God’s Will wanted him happy, why did He curse Nicolò with something so shameful.

When the call for war came, he went easily, wondering if this was His plan all along. If he’d die on the field with many others, finally put out of his own misery. Free from his disgrace.

=======

“Nicolò,” Yusuf calls out after some time had passed, and Nicolò lifts his head from where he’d been breathing open mouthed against his pillow.

“I’m here,” he answers, voice rough and low. “You can come inside.”

Yusuf ducks in through the doorway, pausing to take him in, “You look quite a sad sight,” he says, taking a moment to scent the air, “Do you Christians have something against touching yourself?”

Nicolò hums, eyes fluttering closed as Yusuf’s scent fills the hut again, “He has forsaken me,” he mumbles, “Doesn’t matter if it’s against His Will or not.” He sighs and rubs his cheek against the rough material of his pillow.

“You Christians have strange ruts,” Yusuf says, stepping further into the hut when he realizes that Nicolò isn’t going to attack him in a fit of territorial rage.

Nicolò snorts then, “Not all of them,” he mumbles. “Just me, probably. As punishment for not being a good child, maybe. I’ve given up on trying to figure out why He made me this way.”

Yusuf just watches Nicolò carefully as he takes a seat by his bed roll and Nicolò huffs quietly and rolls onto his back, throwing his arm across his face again in a mock of the position he’d been in when Yusuf had left earlier.

“I can leave if you need me to,” Yusuf says, averting his eyes from the bulge tenting the front of Nicolò’s pants.

“Does being around another alpha during their rut bother you?” Nicolò asks and Yusuf watches as Nicolò pushes his heels into his bedding for a moment, fists clenching very briefly.

Yusuf presses his lips together, “Usually, yes,” he says. “But your scent doesn’t…set me off.” He watches Nicolò for a moment, the careful movement of his fists, opening and closing as if he’s trying to ground himself.

Nicolò hums softly and doesn’t say anything after that, pressing a fist against his lower stomach, breathing in shakily.

“Just touch yourself already,” Yusuf says, covering his face with his hands, “I can go on another walk if you need time.”

Nicolò licks his lips and chooses his next words carefully, “It doesn’t help,” he says on his next exhale, “It’s probably best if you just leave me to get through this, Yusuf,” he murmurs. “I don’t expect you to understand, but I’m already uncomfortable enough without your added commentary.”

Yusuf frowned, “You’re in _pain_ Nicolò,” he says. “An omega would help. If I leave now I could probably be back before your rut ended with—”

“ _No_ ,” Nicolò says loudly, letting his arm drop to the side so he could look over at Yusuf with tired, heavy eyes, “I don’t _want_ an omega, Yusuf. Please drop it and let me work through this on my own.” He pauses, swallowing heavily, “ _Please_ , Yusuf.”

Yusuf nods tightly, “Alright.”

Nicolò covers his face again, breathing through another wave of _want_.

======

On the second night of his rut, Nicolò finds himself face down on his bedroll again; he’s not _quite_ presenting, not all that obvious but he has one leg curled up towards his stomach and in his moment of weakness, he thinks of Yusuf walking in and seeing him, of Yusuf _desiring_ him.

If he were an omega, if he were _right,_ he’d be desirable for Yusuf, he’d be wet and ready and _aching_ for his knot.

It’s not the same ache he feels now, though he wishes it was. Wishes he could _take_ a knot. Wishes his body were designed to be tied to an alpha.

He presses his fist into his mouth to muffle the agonized sound that leaves his throat.

Later the next day, when Yusuf returns from wherever he goes when Nicolò’s scent gets to be _too much_ , Nicolò’s still on his stomach, face pressed into his pillow as he focuses on breathing.

“You’ve never been with an omega before?”

Nicolò exhales loudly through his nose, “Nothing beyond the courting stage,” he mumbles into the pillow.

Yusuf makes a noise in his throat, “So you’ve…”

Nicolò makes a sort of agonized noise, “Yusuf, you’re asking questions you don’t want answers to.” He mumbles, pressing his own fingers into the back of his neck, just at the base of his skull, feeling something like panic build up in his chest.

“How do you know you don’t want an omega if you’ve never been with one?” Yusuf asks, “I’m just trying to keep you distracted.”

Nicolò groans, opens his mouth to answer but a sharp stab of heat settles in his veins and he groans as his back arches and he realizes almost too late that the position he’s in looks—

_“Oh.”_ Yusuf says behind him with a sharp intake of breath.

Nicolò buries his face in the pillow and he hears Yusuf stand up and leave the hut, the sound of his footfalls heavy.

======

Yusuf returns to the hut later that night when Nicolò’s curled on his side, back facing the door.

“Your interests don’t lie with omega,” Yusuf says, somewhat stiff, somewhat matter of fact. “That’s why you’re against having an omega help you.”

Nicolò sighs, tired and ready to fall asleep, “Yusuf,” he murmurs. “I’ll go sleep in another hut. We can split up in the morning if it will make you more comfortable.”

Yusuf makes a frustrated noise, “I just want to understand,” he says. “I’m not leaving you here Nicolò. We may fight sometimes and have disagreements but I’m not going to leave you when you’re at your most vulnerable.”

Nicolò curls tighter on himself, willing away the heavy burn in his stomach, the ache in his limbs, the warring heat in his body, “There is nothing to understand, Yusuf.” He says quietly, “I am an alpha but only by name.” his voice doesn’t break as he says the words, “It’s as simple as that.”

Yusuf is quiet then and Nicolò can feel his gaze burning into his back, steady and there and Nicolò just curls tighter, fumbles for a moment for the blanket tangled around his feet, eager for something to protect him, for _anything_ , even if it means the oppressive heat of his blanket on his already overheated skin.

“Do you prefer the company of an alpha, then?” Yusuf asks sometime later and Nicolò freezes, feels every single muscle in his body contract, panic clawing at his throat as he shifts further onto the edge of his bed roll. “Nicolò, I just want to help you,” Yusuf says then, somewhat desperate. “Seeing you in pain…” he trails off. “It’s not pleasant.”

Nicolò shakes his head, pressing his flushed cheek into his pillow, “Yusuf, please. I can’t do this now. Not with you.” He swallows heavily, throat dry. “It’s too much.”

Yusuf makes a noise then and Nicolò hears shuffling and Yusuf’s scent is _closer_ now, “Nicolò, watching you struggle with the onset of your rut these past few days has been a very hard thing. I can tell this is taking a lot out of you. Just please, let me help you. Let me understand what you’re going through.”

Yusuf being this close, his scent thick with worry and the heat under the blanket have Nicolò’s head spinning, a low whine leaving his mouth involuntarily as he tries to ignore how easy it would be to just roll over and bury his face against Yusuf’s lap.

“Nicolò,” Yusuf says again, soft and gentle as a warm hand lands on his shoulder, only for a moment, before the blanket’s being pulled from over his head, “Nicolò, please tell me how I can help.”

“Yusuf, you don’t know what you’re asking for,” Nicolò murmurs, voice tight. “Please just leave. I don’t want to disgrace you too.”

Yusuf doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything at first, but then his hand returns to Nicolò’s bare shoulder, “I’ve helped other alphas through their ruts before,” he murmurs, “Sometimes, an alpha just wants to fight—a rut isn’t necessarily always sexual, but there were a few men I’d…” he trails off with a sigh. “Nicolò, I know you might not want any help. Maybe there’s guilt or something, but you don’t have to do this alone. Unless you really want to.”

Nicolò grips the blanket in his fist, keeping his eyes shut tightly as he takes in deep, desperate breaths through his mouth, trying to ignore the way Yusuf’s scent surrounds him, the steady fingers against his shoulder, the way their scents _complement_ one another—he doesn’t want Yusuf to lower himself to _his_ standards and he opens his mouth to say just that, to send Yusuf away for the rest of the time but a soft, miserable, “ _Please_.” leaves his mouth instead.

Yusuf’s fingers carefully slide up the back of Nicolò’s neck then, burying themselves in the sweaty hair at the base of his skull, “What do you need, Nicolò,” he murmurs, marveling at the way Nicolò pushes back into the touch. “Tell me so I can help you, please.”

Nicolò shifts on the bed roll, his limbs heavy with exhaustion and heat as he slowly manages to roll over, Yusuf’s hand cradling his cheek now, warm and rough, his scent thick and strong just at his wrist—a noise leaves Nicolò’s mouth as he grips Yusuf’s arm with desperate and shaking hands, shifting his face just enough to press his nose between the end of Yusuf’s sleeve and the heel of his hand, where the scent is, heavy and encompassing, inhaling with a low, unconscious growl.

“Scent?” Yusuf asks softly, watching Nicolò all but rub his face against his wrist, “Is that what you need, Nicolò?” he murmurs, reaching out with his other hand to gently cradle the back of his head. “I’ve got you, Nicolò, just take what you need.” He whispers, feeling the barely there brush of Nicolò’s lips against his pulse.

Nicolò makes a soft, pleased sound, his fingertips slipping just under the edge of Yusuf’s sleeve, pushing it further down his arm, “Yusuf.” he mumbles out with a sigh, eyes closed, looking less stressed than before.

“I’ve met a few alphas like you,” Yusuf says softly, needing to fill the silence between them, “The ones who don’t get aggressive during their rut, the ones who need a little extra _something_ from another alpha,” He feels the light graze of Nicolò’s teeth against the soft skin of his inner arm. “I know we’ve only been traveling together as companions for a short amount of time, but I want you to know that if you need my help, it’s okay to ask for it.”

Nicolò shifts more until he’s curled up and his head rests against Yusuf’s thigh, a quiet sigh leaving his lips, “Carrying another alpha’s scent is considered disgraceful,” he mumbles, squeezing his eyes closed tighter, “But I cannot stop it. When I have a rut, I just _crave_ the scent of another alpha more than I do that of an omega.”

Yusuf’s fingers slip into Nicolò’s hair, nails gentle against his scalp, “Carrying another alpha’s scent isn’t disgraceful. Many of the…” he trails off, frowning. “In times of battle, our ranks are full of alpha soldiers and we carry each other’s scent as a sign we’re united.”

“We’re not fighting right now,” Nicolò murmurs softly, “This is my first rut since…” he pauses, “No matter. My father made it very clear how disgraceful carrying another alpha’s scent was. And…he’s definitely not around anymore but. I can still hear his voice right now. Telling me how much of a disgrace I am for needing this.”

Yusuf’s fingers run along his scalp, and Nicolò realizes that he’s writing something, “I do not think the opinion of a dead man matters when you have someone here willing to help you,” he says softly. “I know that replacing the words of your parents is difficult, but you’re your own man now. And if this helps you, there are ways to find those who are more inclined to help than those that ridicule.”

The silence lapses between them and Nicolò feels himself drift off a little, waking some unknown amount of time later to Yusuf’s gentle fingers at the nape of his neck.

“How do you feel?” Yusuf asks, keeping his voice low, something about the tone pooling heat in Nicolò’s belly.

Nicolò hums quietly, shifting until he can bow his head more, pressing up into Yusuf’s touch, reveling in the firm grip, “I am burning,” he murmurs into Yusuf’s thigh. “It’s very warm, _I’m_ very warm.”

Yusuf squeezes the back of Nicolò’s neck, hearing him choke out a soft gasp, “Do you need to present?” he asks as Nicolò pulls in sharp breaths through parted lips.

He shakes his head, “ _No_ ,” he mumbles, “This is fine, this works. I can feel the heat ebbing away the more I lay here. As long as you stay close, I think.”

Yusuf pauses, thinks about his next words, “But you _do_ present,” he murmurs, not as a question, just a statement. “When I was in here before you—”

“Yusuf, please,” Nicolò mumbles, feeling _embarrassed_ and something else he can’t put a name to, but the heat in his stomach burns more, his fingers digging into where they’re gripping Yusuf’s knee.

Yusuf shushes him, goes back to petting his hair, “That’s not a no,” he murmurs, matter of fact. “If you need to, it’s okay.”

Nicolò swallows, “I think I need water,” he mumbles, and then he moves away from Yusuf, ignoring the pull he feels as he moves across the small hut, sitting on his knees so he can take several mouthfuls of water.

“Nicolò, I do want to help you. If my scent isn’t enough, there’s more I could do to help, I’m sure.”

Nicolò tentatively moves back to his bed roll, kneeling on it, “I just. What does this mean…for us?” he asks, quiet and unsure. “I do not want to disgust you, Yusuf. For all our arguments and our disagreements and the fights…I do not want to be parted from you.”

Yusuf looks at him, watches him carefully for several moments before he stands and moves until he’s in front of Nicolò—with careful fingers he reaches out and nudges his chin up, “Nicolò,” he murmurs, “I’m not going to leave you behind. I want to help you.”

Nicolò licks his lips, tilting his head up more, eyes fluttering closed as he bares his throat to Yusuf, “If you wish to stay with me, this is what you’ll get.” He whispers, “Whenever I go into a rut, my body will need you.”

Yusuf feels his mouth go dry, his pulse pick up, thumping wildly under his skin as he stares at the smooth expanse of Nicolò’s throat. “That’s a lot of responsibility,” he says, “This must be hard for you, to kneel and give up control to me.”

He exhales, eyes opening slowly as he looks up at Yusuf, “I’ve never wanted to kneel for someone more than I want to kneel for you,” he murmurs.

Yusuf sucks in a sharp breath, “Nicolò?” he asks, “Are you…”

“I’m being serious,” he pauses, let’s out a soft sigh and leans into the touch Yusuf still has on his chin, “… _Alpha_.”

Yusuf swallows heavily, “This isn’t something you should decide on while in a rut,” he chastises gently, pressing his fingertips harder into the soft skin under Nicolò’s chin. “Let’s get through your rut, and then when you’re clear headed, we’ll talk about it, okay?”

Nicolò’s face relaxes, his whole body sags into Yusuf’s, “ _Alpha_ ,” he mumbles again, “Thank you.”

Yusuf moves away from Nicolò then, and Nicolò stays kneeling, watching him with sharp eyes as Yusuf grabs his bed roll and pulls it closer, overlapping the two piles of bedding before he settles down on it, “Come here Nicolò,” he says, tone firm as he pats his thigh.

Nicolò’s there, settling on his belly, half in Yusuf’s lap as he presses his face into Yusuf’s thigh, inhaling deeply. “Thank you,” he murmurs again as Yusuf’s hand goes to his hair.

“Rest for now,” Yusuf murmurs, carding his fingers through Nicolò’s hair, “I’ve got you.”


End file.
